Flowers in Your Hair
by Brandidy
Summary: Bethyl one-shots based on songs, ranging from terribly sad to hopefully deeply optimistic!
1. Chapter 1-Samson

**Based on Samson by Regina Spektor.**

He had wandered into my bed at some point in the night, unknowingly leaving the door ajar and allowing the cold to creep inside. His body was scorching against my own, and I clung to him selfishly, hoping his heat would melt some of the icy fear that was always in my heart these days.

I wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the gaunt boniness against my fingertips. He breathing was uneven, spilling from his lips in harsh pants. I drug my lips along his shoulders, lowering them to linger on his deep ever-present scars. Not once had I pitied him for it. He didn't need pity, he needed someone to make him forget. That was my purpose, to make him forget all of the horrible shit that had gone on in his past.

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving outward and I knew he was in pain. "Daryl?" I tried to ask, but my voice broke on the second syllable. He turned slightly, looking at me with those sullen eyes that had lost their fierce predatory demeanor. One thing that would never change was that slight grin he had on his lips.

The sheets slid along our skin, I let out a small whimper when he moved even more, despite all of his gasping and trembling. Now his body was facing mine, and I didn't let my pure melancholy thoughts affect my facial expression.

"I want ya' to cut my hair." Daryl rasped, bringing up his coarse hands to my cheek.

It was such a dark contrast to the first time we had shared this bed, and I closed my hand and leaned into his palm, nudging into him as much as I could before the weakness overtook him and his hand fell to the bed. I nodded profusely when I realized I hadn't given any response, pulling myself up to grab some scissors.

When I returned, he was sitting up on the bed, using the soft cushion to bear his weight that had become little to nothing in that past few months. I stood in front of him, intending for this to go like every other night where we shared few words, just saturating ourselves in each others company while it was still permitted by the universe.

So, I was utterly taken back when he spoke up again, twice in one night. "You're beautiful." He told me, flipping the blond hair that lay sprawled out upon my shoulder.

I felt guilt arise inside of me when my eyes stung violently, begging for a release of the pent up salty liquid. I had promised him long ago that I wouldn't cry, and I'd be damned if this would be the time for me to do it. "How do you want it cut?" I inquired, and he answered as I knew he would, but still hoped he wouldn't.

"Just, cut it all." He responded dismissively, and I bit my lip. His hair had just grown back, not as long as it had been when we had first met, and not as long as it had been when we passionately occupied this bed, but it still felt like a stab in my memories to remove what seemed to be that last string to his old life that he had left.

I delicately lifted the scissors, though, knowing it wasn't my place to keep him from what he wanted.

The hair fell around him, caressing his skin sweetly before disappearing onto the floor and being swept around by the breeze of the fan. His hand trailed aimlessly along my thigh, and I felt the familiar tremor that I received when he was touching me. It didn't matter what he looked like, I had never been able to help keep myself from falling into that never ending pit he seemed to create and made so tempting to jump into.

I watched his muscles move beneath his thin, nearly translucent skin. He couldn't scare a fly these days, but every now and then, I caught the glimpse of who he used to be. A glimpse of the man I had thrown myself heart first at.

When I snipped the final piece of hair with the dull scissors, he gave me an approving smile even though he had no idea what the outcome looked like. I laughed now, full and hearty, plucking teasingly at a piece that was clearly longer than others. He rolled his eyes, but the room seemed to grow colder when a wet cough was released from his mouth, filling the air with gurgling noises. I took a stepped forward, and he placed his hands between us. "I have to go."

It wasn't supposed to happen, but I couldn't help it. My breath caught in my throat and I let out an involuntary sob. I knew he meant he had to go back to his own bed where he was being given proper treatment, but I couldn't stop my mind from reeling over the deeper meaning of it all. The pale yellow light illuminated the streaks on my face, and I was fully aware of his hands sliding up my back. "I have to go." He had repeated, but I knew then that he didn't mean it. Just that once, he could stay. He would stay.

His now cold lips found mine, and I leaned forward, dropping the scissors to the floor. My fingers timidly moved towards the back of his neck, making sure I didn't pull him in too harsh a manner or cause him any sort of pain.

He pulled me awkwardly around him, not really exerting any strength, but I knew what he wanted and followed without hesitation. He wasn't strong enough to go too far, but kissing was enough. Hell, feeling his heart beat was enough.

I lie down on the bed, and he slumped beside me with a grunt, then sunk his wonderful lips onto my own, and once again, my heart was racing as if nothing had changed. Everything had always seemed to right, and even though I knew there was no happy ending in store for us, I just needed to feel this with him. If I didn't greedily suck up all of his affection for me, I would never make it.

He stopped, pulling his lips away only to look into my eyes. "I love you first." He said, showing me that rare vulnerable side he didn't let others know existed. It was the truth. He had been aware of the simmering tension between us long before I did, but I wasn't fully sure he had quite loved me first. Then again, Daryl wasn't exactly forthcoming with his emotions.

"I will always love you, Daryl Dixon." I said, feeling that it needed to be said.

He let out a rough chuckle, then kissed me chastely. "When I'm gone-"

I stopped him there, shaking my head and begging him to not speak anymore, but he silenced me calmly, making me yearn for the Daryl who would argue and scream. "When I'm gone, you have to live. You gotta put yourself out there. You're stupidly young," he said, kissing my neck, "and I'll be damned if you don't get your sappy happy endin'."

"I can't love anyone else." I whispered, looking him in his now dull blue eyes.

They crinkled slightly, and I regretted putting him in the position where he would feel any sort of discomfort. "You have to." He spoke with finality, and I knew then that I was going to live the rest of my life in constant agony and discomfort.

At some point in the night, he had wandered back to bed, leaving me with my arms spread along the sheets and leaving silent stains along the material. This time, he closed the door. It was almost as if he knew it was going to happen and just didn't want me to hear it.

The next morning, Daryl Dixon passed away.

I found him on the floor, feet away from his oxygen tank, so close to the very thing that would prolong his life, but I knew it wasn't saving him. Just dragging out what he knew was inevitable and what I knew he had already come to terms with. Yet, I still fell to the ground before him after calling for an ambulance.

I still pulled him towards me, grasping any sort of life he might have had left, but his lips were blue and his face was cold and hard. He had been gone, and all I could think of were his words, "_I have to go._" He knew, god dammit, he knew.

Three months before, Daryl had quit his treatment. He wanted to stay there and be with me, and even though the doctors were persistent, he refused and found his way back home. His plan... Well, his plan that he made up to amuse me was that he would go back to treatment when he got worse. I should have known whenever he began stumbling, unable to move correctly on his own. I should have made him go back. I should have forced him to stay in that bed. But, I knew and he knew that if he was motivated, he would get what he wanted.

It just seemed so unreal. What would be the most catastrophic thing in my life would land as a simple headline in the newspaper for someone else, possibly a story of gossip. It lead me to wonder why other people seemed so important to get their life stories written down and passed among the generations?

History books would forget about us, filling their pages with things that seemed to pale in comparison to the feeling I obtained having this dead man weighing down in my arms. The bible wouldn't mention us. We'd be just another thought, thrown to the wind and spread vaguely throughout history until soon enough, we had been completely neglected.

I had been unaware of my loud wailing, only hearing my vicious echoes when the soft patter of footsteps entered the room.

"Mommy?"

I pulled Daryl closer to my arms, unwilling to look at my little girl. I wanted to shield her from this. She didn't need this to be the last image she had of her father. "Ellie, go upstairs." My voice came out in different octaves, and I fought the urge to collapse in on myself when I felt he small arms go around my own, her fingers brushing her fathers now short hair.

"Daddy isn't dead mommy, he's just gone." She cried to me, and I didn't say a damn thing to stop her optimistic thoughts. "He's just gone." She repeated, and I felt her own small figure shaking. I turned slightly, pulling her to me as well, and I knew then that I had to live, and I had to love. I had to do it all for her, to show her that she could.

I was eighty-four when my body decided to give up the fight, and I had six beautiful grandchildren. I don't regret living for them, seeing them grow up and have their own children, but I won't lie and say it didn't feel like coming home when I took my final breath, warm arms around me and the nostalgic echo of a southern draw in my ear. They buried me beside him, but beyond our graves, we were together, and we were in love. I got my sappy happy ending when I saw his face, and I realized that he was my sweetest downfall, and I'd be willing to tumble over and over again.


	2. Chapter 2-Barton Hollow

**Based off of Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars.**

She was just another girl, really. Never did no wrong, always listened when her parents told her to stay away from the men around town. They were dirty and gruff, and kept their guns dangerously close, ready to aim whenever a situation got a bit too much to handle. Never did handle confrontation too well, so they advised her to just not look them in the eye. It was possibly the only reason Beth didn't have a bullet torn through her chest.

Barton Hollow was filled with the toughest bandits and outlaws, each one having their own characteristic that was horrible enough for children to tell their friends about in the dark to get a deathly rise out of them. Beth had been no exception, learning at a young age that humanity was cruel and filled with awful people.

"Bethy, I want you comin' straight home from the store." Her daddy had told her as he picked the last of the ripened tomatoes, and all she could do was nod.

The clothing store was right beside the saloon, much to her chagrin. The drunken men were always stumbling around their horses, falling over the feet that God had given them to walk with. The worst was when they decided to take an interest in her. She was innocent to the majority of the world, men definitely being part of it.

Beth side stepped as a man on a horse ran passed her, nearly making her topple over. She stomped her foot, spinning her head to see the man on a black stallion riding out of her view. "The lack of manners in this town is scary." She mumbled, until the caught the side of his face.

Fear ripped throughout her, making her stumble around and stare at him as he rode efficiently out of view. The thumping of the horses hooves still echoed around her, and the warm scent of intimidation lingered in the air. Her hand was covering her heart, she realized, and was in sudden turmoil at the thought of going to town. She wanted to eliminate all possibilities of seeing that man.

…

The wind pulling through his hair had always been his favorite part of the day. Even with his life filled to the rim with excitement, nothing quite beat the feeling of the country air pounding relentlessly into his nostrils.

His bag sagged with his immorality and sins, and the colt at his hip was still warm from it's most recent shot. He was on the run, and he'd be damned if he'd be anything less than exhilarated about it. The overall mood went a little South when he felt the slightest hesitation in Annie's side, making Daryl pull the reigns. She slammed through the area that he was unfamiliar with, making his horse skirt around some idiot girl on the road.

Daryl glimpsed at the blond, but found she wasn't worth his time. He didn't quite catch her face, but if he was being honest, he wasn't really fond of a lady who would gawk at a man on the road like he had robbed her. The fear she felt when she caught a glance of him was enough to make him regret not allowing Annie to knock her over, but he quickly shook the thought. Never had Daryl Dixon hit a woman, that was something he was proud of. Yet, he got a bad taste in his mouth from that person. If anything, he had already become annoyed with the girl he had never met.

Hands gripping tighter, he felt the thirst for danger and whiskey sink into the pit of his stomach and he kicked into Annie's sides, making her thunder with even more power than he sometimes forgot was possible.

**...**

The air around him slowed down when he saw the sign for the saloon, and he pulled the reigns quickly, making Annie come to a halt completely. She neighed at the men who were baffled by her sleek exterior, a grin sliding slyly onto his lips at how she was like him. Not letting anyone get too close.

He tied her up to a post, then swung his foot gracefully over the lean muscles of her back, landing on the ground with a thud and turning to take in the poor excuse for a town around him. Not that he had grown up with any better, not by far, but he had just expected the first town he stopped in after what he had recently obtained would be much nicer.

A man with a billowing brown coat walked passed. His eyes, or eye for that matter, as one of them was sealed shut and scarred, making Daryl sense that there wasn't really any eye at all, had run over Daryl with conviction. He stopped, and Daryl's eyes were keenly aware that the man's hand had gone to where his gun now resigned.

"Haven't seen you 'round here before."

Daryl shrugged, brushing passed. "I bet you don't see a lot of things." His voice chimed out. The man let out a small chuckled, grabbing Daryl's forearm.

"You're clever. But, you see," he pointed to the saloon. "This here is my territory. Along with everything around it." He held out his hand, a charismatic smile gracing his deceiving lips. "I go by The Governor."

Daryl snorted at his nickname, not bothering to take his hand. "Daryl." He responded with a rasp, watching the man warily. He quickly went over all of the weapons he currently had with him, and when he was sure he had it all down to the exact distance he would have to reach and how long it would take him to draw, he laid on his thick, harsh attitude. The man's haughty gaze searched heavily over Daryl's face, raking along the surface. He strained to not itch under the interrogation, reaching up to fix his hat instead. "Now are you gonna keep me here all day for a chat, or can I go and drink myself blind?" He asked, watching the Governor laugh once again at his taunting joke.

"Uh course, you go on and enjoy yourself." The man finally spoke, but Daryl knew he'd have to deal with it later. Until then, he was going to drink until he couldn't think of any reasons to stop.

…

Beth kicked at her dress for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, fighting her grimace when the wind picked up and pushed her dress between her legs once more. She walked through the midst of stale smoke and restless horses, her mind running around and trying to put a name to each outlaws face by their scars or their outfits.

A leathery man of his late forties turned and caught her staring, and she shifted her gaze, but not before she saw a grin start to turn the corners of his thin lips. Beth shook her head, walking quickly into the clothing store. Two men awaited her, standing beside counters and quickly grabbing two suitcases from the shelves.

"Hello, little lad-" The man's voice cut off when he realized it was Beth, and she looked down and laughed.

"Just me, Jim." The man smiled back at her, and she felt the smallest of flutters in her stomach. He was a handsome man, still held his boyish charm and gave smiles that promised sweetness behind everything he did. He was someone her momma had wanted her to marry when she was older. It wasn't out of the question, and they were always making up excuses to send her to this damn store.

Jim walked towards her, then took his spot leaning up against the counter with his arms crossed. "What can I do for ya, Beth?" He asked, watching her as she bent over to pick up one of the children's pairs of shoes.

"Maggie's expectin' a baby, so I'm just here to get some shoes." She sighed, walking around the store to see if any other pair peeked her interest. She needed to at least get one for a boy and one for a girl. She shuffled quietly through another box, saying hello to Jim's friend, Zachariah. A squeal of excitement exited her pink lips, and she turned quickly.

Jim hid the smile on his lips at how happy she got from the smallest things, stepping towards her. Beth then handed him the small black pair she had found, her soft fingertips brushing his.

"Maggie's pregnant, eh? Who's the father?" He asked in an attempt at making polite conversation, writing down Beth's fathers name on a piece of paper in which Hershel would come and pay off once a month. He hadn't missed a payment once.

Beth breathed out, still in shock that her sister was having a child at all. "A man named Glenn. She tells me he's real sweet on her, but I won't believe it till I see his face." She grinned ear to ear at the thought of how happy her sister had been whenever she returned from where she had been staying with her husband. She had been whisked off her feet, not letting anyone get the chance to meet the man before she ran off with him and let him put a ring on her finger.

Jim handed Beth the shoes. "Well, wish her good luck for me, and come back soon." He conceded warmly, and Beth responded with the formal ways to say farewells before the exited out of the door, only to be stopped within a few feet by a hard chest with a terrible aroma.

"Yes?" She asked, squeaking by the end of the word when her eyes found the person she had bumped into. The man had a stoic expression, and frankly he looked ready to gut her, but the thing that caused a reaction from Beth was how he was missing an eye.

Now, Beth wasn't the kind to draw attention to illnesses or scars, but it was the meaning behind the scar. Only one outlaw that she knew was missing an eye, and it must have been God playing one hell of a joke on her to allow her to meet him. This was The Governor, the man who had forced women into intolerable acts, forcing their innocence away for money. He was the most despicable man she had heard about, and here he was, standing right in front of her, looking down at her as if he was wondering what she tasted like.

"You're a pretty thing." He commented, and Beth's stomach began to churn in an anything but nice way.

She cleared her throat, looking around. "My family is waiting for me." She told him, trying to walk by him, but to no avail. He simply stepped over slightly, ending her pursuit. "They'll be worried if I'm not home soon." She pleaded, but realized her mistake too late. If she was smart, she would have said that they were in one of these stores, but now he knew that no one would know who she was if he took her, and her family was miles and miles away sitting comfortably at home, waiting for a daughter who would never return.

The man spun around too excitedly, shouting something to equally disgusting men around them, and Beth shrunk in size as they came closer. One grabbed her by the arm and the small pair of shoes fell from her fingers, and the other shoved her from behind, clasping his hand over her mouth.

They dragged her into the saloon, tossing her onto the floor like she didn't weigh a damn thing and began yelling some sort of bidding.

…

Daryl ordered another whiskey, downing it and proceeding to order another. He was beginning to feel the familiar lightness that came with the alcohol, and he bathed himself in it. Whiskey was his get away, and despite having had one of the best days of his life, he still needed the drunken buzz.

"Seems that we have ourselves a fighter here, boys!" A familiar voice shouted out, and Daryl turned in his chair, seeing the man he had met earlier hovering over some girl sprawled out on the floor. She didn't look like a fighter to him.

The girl took that moment to pull herself up, glaring at the man before her. "You're life must be so sad." She spat, and Daryl took another drink as he watched the scene unfold before him.

"That may be true, but I'm not the one being auctioned off." His tone was condescending, and not even the slightest bit remorseful. "Can we start the bidding at 1 dollar for this lovely lady? She's filled in all the right places and I can just _tell _that she's a screamer." Beth's eyes widened slightly, looking at the man with unadulterated fear when she realized what he was doing. She was about to be the product of one of his deals, and she suddenly was alarmingly aware of her inability to protect herself.

Dozens of gruff men were around her now, all of them looking at her like a predator does it's pray just before the initial attack as they shouted prices. Like she wasn't human. Like she didn't matter.

She still shoved some sort of plead into her stare, trying to find a decent man in the room. Her eyes ran over someone, and she almost didn't recognize the man now that she could see his face full on, but she'd never forget that aura he had given off. Her face changed, now seeping with disgust as he sat there, looking her in the eyes with a blank stare.

The Governor's hand traveled up her leg, scraping the fabric of her dress into a bunch with his hand. She saw the blade in his grasp, and Beth bit her lip to keep from slapping him in the face. He'd surely stab her, and she wasn't quite ready to defend herself to the point of suicide.

His hand came so close, she couldn't breathe. Face blood red in humiliation, she clenched her eyes closed. Daryl stood up now, but didn't walk further when he saw The Governor leaning down towards the girl. "Am I right?"

Beth wasted no time spitting in his face. He reeled back as she bit out, "You can go to hell."

The man lifted his fist, punching the girl in the left cheek. Her body swung to the side, hitting the floor and making a loud noise throughout the building. The Governor was prepared to land another blow, this time with the knife, when he was clouted back. Their eyes caught, and the other man shook his head. "I knew I should have gotten rid of you sooner."

Daryl had his gun drawn, pointing it at the man's head. "The black stallion outside. Go to her." He instructed the girl, and when she looked rather dazed, pulling all of her limbs back to her body so that she didn't look like a lifeless doll, his eyes glanced to her. He felt internal pain at the blood dripping from her mouth, but she wasn't going to respond to niceness. "Go on!" He bellowed, and she scrambled herself up and ran out of the saloon doors.

"I'm going to kill you, and I'm gonna enjoy it." The Governor said, showing his insanity with the amusement on his face at having a gun to his head.

"I'm already a dead man walkin'." Daryl revealed, pulling out another colt and pointing it at a man who was trying to sneak up on him. It was one of the guys that threw that girl in there. A deafening shot rung out, making everyone's ears ache. There was a sense of confusion, as it seemed that three people currently had guns pulled openly in the room, when originally there had been two. The large man collapsed onto the floor, and Daryl cocked his head as he saw a blond with his Winchester rifle in his peripheral vision.

Beth stood with her fingers grazing the trigger, a determined look on her face. "What you been doin' to them girls, it ain't right." She told the Governor with ease, taking a step into the room. Everyone had trouble adjusting to the fact that this petite girl was now in charge of the situation, but Daryl kept his eyes on the men to make sure none of them felt the need to gun her down. She passed through the threshold fully, her gun clearly aimed at the eyeless man.

"I should kill you right now." She told him, and everyone then knew that she wasn't going to. The Governor let out a little breath, and was beginning to move when she reinforced her weapon with a little more confidence. "I still will, you insignificant piece of shit."

Daryl's eyebrows lifted a little at her words, and he found himself actually being impressed with this thing of a woman. She couldn't be older than 19, maybe 20, and here she was, having more balls than the majority of the men in that room.

The Governor's face didn't seem to darken, in fact, he had begun to walk towards her. Daryl's body became rigid the closer he got, and he kicked himself in the ass for feeling protective over this girl who didn't know when to leave.

Before anyone's eyes could catch it, The Governor swung behind Daryl, a pistol put to his head. Beth looked helpless to the new position she was in, and Daryl got some sort of twisting in his stomach that wasn't completely uncomfortable at the fact that she was in fear for his life. No one had ever given a damn but this girl did. Sure it was because he had saved her life, but it still meant something, right?

Beth lifted her arms, her finger grazing the trigger as she aimed. Everything slowed down as the Governor chuckled deeply, but she kept her facade of self-assurance.

"You didn't even cock-"

She slipped the gun from one of her hands, successfully bringing it down and cocking the gun, taking bliss in the fact that she heard another bullet slide elegantly into the chamber. Within milliseconds, she was back into her stance, gun loaded and aimed, now with an arrogant addition of a smirk.

"You were sayin'?" She asked, and The Governor was at a loss of words. Her eyes slid down to where Daryl was not so patiently pointing at the man's hand that was holding the gun. His fingers were trembling, and Beth was sure that it was the only way he showed any sense of fear to anyone. She didn't know this man, wasn't sure she wanted to, but in that moment, she held his life in her hands. If she missed, he'd be dead. If not by her bullet, than by the Governor's.

After she pulled the trigger again, a blur of motion flew through her vision. Daryl turned, swinging the gun from the man's hand, punching him in the jaw and slamming his head down on the bar counter. More men were on them without hesitation, guns pulled, and Daryl sped out of the door, pulling her with him. They were almost to his horse when another shot rung out. Beth didn't feel any pain, but she knew Daryl was no longer directly beside her. She redirected her body, seeing him stopped in the middle of the road. Paper fluttered effortlessly in the wind, and Beth caught the faces of their presidents on the bills.

She gasped when she realized there was no way he had earned that cash, leading her to the next best guess. He was a bandit.

…

He heard the tear, and when he felt the sag of his pack lighten, he had no choice but to stop. All of the money he had was laid out on the dirt, several feet away from him. The men were walking towards him, the only thing saving him from a bullet was their interest being peeked by the thousands of dollars flying in the wind.

Soft gentle hands went to his arm, and he tore his eyes away to see the blond girl standing behind him, her eyes holding the slightest bit of fear, but not the judgment he expected. She was tugging him, he realized. "Come on." She pulled, and finally, he followed. They ran to his horse, slicing the rope that kept her tethered to the pole, and he slung his leg over easily. Beth wasn't having the same luck, her feet fighting to reach the height that was required to climb on, so he quickly dipped his rough hands, scooping her up by her waist and pulling her onto the horse in front of him.

His feet kicked violently into Annie's sides as she bolted off. Another gun shot pierced the stale air, and Daryl felt Beth sag lightly, her lips letting out a cry. His hand around her abdomen slowly began to warm with liquid, and he shook her gently. "Can you make it until we're out of town?" He said too quickly, not aware of how concerned his voice was going to come out.

She nodded, and the fact that she didn't give a verbal response was enough for him to dig his heels in a little harder. It was just her shoulder, but the girl was small. She could easily bleed out and that would be the end of it.

Yes, he could have just left her somewhere, removed the burden of having to tend to her wounds himself and gone on his merry way to find another bank to rob. But, he didn't want this to be the end of it. He had never traveled with company, never felt the necessity of it, but this girl in his arms had caught his eye. He had noticed at some point that she was the same woman on the road earlier, and it brought the smallest hint of a smile to his lips.

They rode like wind, furiously bursting through the crowds until the buildings and people became rare and the small of fresh water entered the air. He lifted the girl's body a bit, making sure she wasn't going to slide off as he went down a hill and headed straight for the river.

…

Everything was sort of muddled together, the hand on her stomach felt scorching, and the pain in her shoulder sort of dulled everything else. She slid down, cradling her head in the man's shoulder, not giving a damn that it wasn't the proper thing to do. She wanted to sleep, just wanted to close her eyes and allow herself to trail off into oblivion without a care in the world.

"You got a name?" The man asked, trying to keep her attention.

She licked her dry lips, painfully conscious of the lack of wetness in her mouth. "Beth." She croaked out, her face turning the slightest shade of red in embarrassment as how pathetic she sounded. "Beth Greene." She tried again, and her head moved as he nodded with understanding. After a few moments more of silence beyond the thuds of the horses running, Beth was becoming restless. "You gonna tell me yours or do I have to guess?"

He laughed now, enjoying her sass that she managed even with a bullet wound. "Daryl." He responded, and Beth repeated the name in her mind until she was sure she'd never forget it.

Beth didn't know that were stopped until she felt Daryl sliding off, pulling her small body down with him. He held her in his arms as he walked, and she jumped and yelled when he laid her down in the cold river. "What the hell?" She quipped, shoving at him. Her anger turned to pain when the water ran over her wound, and Daryl held her where she was, making sure she didn't go running off.

The blood was winding in the river away from them, and Beth watched it trail. "Am I gonna die?" She wondered out loud, and Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, there's an exit wound. I just needed to get something to keep pressure on it." His words hung in the air, and then he took a step back and began unbuttoning his coat. Beth looked at him like he was going to attack, and he just ignored it, holding his jacket in his hands, pulling a knife out and stabbed it through the material. She watched as his muscles moved, sliding the knife through the worn cloth, ripping the final part off and tossing the overgarment onto the land.

"Won't that cause infection?" She asked, pointing at the dirty rag that he was now bringing towards her. He sighed, leaning down and rinsing it in the stream. Beth smiled as he looked utterly put out by this small task, and she wondering why he thought such a tedious thing to be so horrible. That's when he mind ran back to where she had seen him huddled over, watching the money on the ground with a pained expression. "I'm sorry about your money." She said, watching as his muscles tensed, stopping his motions in the water.

He shrugged. "Those bastards will get a kick out of it."

"Where'd you get it?" Her bluntness took him back, and he gazed at her openly. She wanted to fawn away, burrow herself in some sort of hole to escape the intensity in his eyes, but she knew she had to be strong and hold herself high. "Did you steal it?"

Daryl roughly rubbed the material together in the water once more, then yanked it up and rung it out. He came back to where she stood, putting his hands on her swollen skin without any care for how raw it was. Beth yelped, pulling back. They looked at each other, and she cradled her shoulder with her other hand.

"What if I had inherited it?" He questioned, and Beth knew she had struck some sort of nerve by thinking the worst of him.

She felt her face turning into a grimace as the pain hit her once more in her shoulder. "But you didn't." She commented, looking down at where she was bleeding profusely.

"Is that what you think?" He asked, taking a step closer, patently trying to intimidate her. But, sadly for him, she had lived her whole life being afraid. It was time for her to step out of her box and let the world know she wasn't just a sheep for the herding. She refused to fall in line.

Beth narrowed her eyes at him, biting back, "It's what I know. Most of the money was still in paper bundles, Daryl. I'm not an idiot. I have been to a bank before." He looked off-set when he realized she was right, and he felt like an idiot for thinking that ginormous detail would have slipped passed her.

Another fear inducing sentence was dancing at the tip of his tongue, attempting to reconcile for what ground he lost while trying to defend his make-believe honor, when he saw her beginning to wobble. She leaned hard to one side, and Daryl slid beside her, catching her from falling fully into the water. He ripped the shoulder of her dress off. When he could properly look at her wound and the skin around it, he watched the blood still seeping out and running down her creamy pale skin.

"Shit." He mumbled, pulling her to him.

Quickly, he wrapped the cloth around her shoulder, pulling the skin together tightly with one of his hands and teeth before tightening the cloth and holding her. His fingers danced along her skin, and Beth watched him with glazed eyes.

He seemed to take extra care while fixing her wound, surprising the both of them. He surely didn't seem the type to be gentle. Her breath was heating as his lips moved so close to her skin, even though he had no idea that what he was doing was causing such a stir in her body.

"I want to go with you." She breathed out, and Daryl looked up at her. It was a horrible idea. He was always in some sort of danger, and pulling Beth into it would lead to her being killed. She was innocent, of that much he could tell, even if she had good aim. She had a family. It's be selfish of him to pull her away and leave them thinking she was as good as dead.

He felt the clay squishing beneath his feet, and Beth was gaining more and more color in her face. She pulled back from him, standing by herself with the slightest bit of struggle. He wished she was weak so that he could justify why she shouldn't come with him, but she stood, wearing her wound with pride and holding her chin just as high as he did.

Daryl looked past her, staring at the open fields surrounding them. "It's dangerous." He said, and Beth felt the sliver of hope she had gain some mass now that she knew he was considering.

"I am aware." She pressed, needing an answer.

He looked at her, then lifted his hand and pointed clumsily at her wound. "There's bound to be more where that came from." He informed her, and Beth felt that he may have been giving her an out. She wasn't going to take it.

"Worth it." Was all she said, and Daryl looked the girl over. She was pretty, he knew that much. Having her around was going to be a distraction, always keeping his attention from being fully on the task at hand.

He went for his final excuse, making himself think he wanted her to leave. Though, he wasn't fooling anyone. "I'm gonna corrupt that sweet little innocence you have. After I get through with you, can't no preacher man save your soul."

Beth's face began to scorch, and he knew what it could have sounded like, but he didn't speak a word to stop her mind from interpreting. She was as hot as a furnace beneath her clothes, and he watched with some new found sense of pain as she licked her lips again. She ran her fingers tentatively through her hair, and smiled back up a him when she had gained enough of her confidence back.

"I've been innocent for too long."

The way she looked at him rattled his brain, and he only nodded. She was already getting the upper hand on him, and he didn't know how to handle it. "Yea, well... We're gonna need to get you different clothes." He said, turning away. The dress she was currently in was soaked, sticking to all of her curves and leaving little to the imagination. He couldn't help the pained growl that left his lips when he looked at Annie, realizing that one way or another, the girl was going to be wet and pressed into his body no matter where she sat on the horse.

Beth followed closely behind, a brilliant grin on her lips as she watched him tremble uneasily in front of her. Because of her. She anticipated the future now that she knew it wasn't going to be filled with cleaning the dishes and hanging out the laundry.

They traveled miles and miles in their time, filling their days with anxious tension. The dirt was acquainted with them, towns shook as they passed through. They robbed and killed, becoming two of the most wanted people to ever step foot in the state of Georgia.

Who had once been a dead man walking, having no ties to anyone, could now not be found without the moral high ground of a blond by his side. You see, the people they killed weren't innocent civilians and the money they stole wasn't kept. Beth had formed some sort of agreement with Daryl, in which they both only killed when it was needed, almost always being another outlaw who was trying to kill them or someone guiltless. They only stole from those who had stolen the money before them, and they gave it to the families in the towns, never keeping a dime for themselves.

They never had a need for money, Daryl realized one day. Beth was all he needed, and as long as she was fed and smiling, nothing else mattered. Beth and Daryl indulged in each others company, as they both knew they would from the second he agreed to bring her with him. You can take it anyway you please. For once in both of their lives, they were decidedly the happiest either of them had ever been.

Her family never saw her again, but one day, four months after Beth had left, Hershel received a letter on his doorstep. Maggie walked out beside him, her new born baby boy in her arms as she looked passed him to see what had been outside the door. A pair of black children's shoes were lying on top of the paper, acting as an anchor. He automatically recognized the beautiful hand writing, and his old heart nearly gave out. The letter read:

_Ain't going back to Barton Hollow, Devil's gonna follow me everywhere I go._

_Didn't do me no good washing in the river, can't no preacher man save my soul._

_If I die before I wake, I know the lord my soul won't take._

_Please, forgive me father._

_-Your Beth_


	3. Chapter 3-You Are My Sunshine

**Based on the song You Are My Sunshine covered by Johnny Cash.**

_We were curled into the sheets, me trying to get the strength to get up and do what I needed to do, and her trying to get the strength to keep me within arms reach. _

_ "I love you." Beth said, breathless. She slid around in my arms, making me feel young again. She let her fingers draw patterns onto my skin as she waited for me to say it back, which was ridiculous that she still felt the necessity of response when we had declared it so many times to each other already. _

_ Yet, her eyes began to look away and she became insecure. "Jesus, Beth. You know I love you." I begrudgingly admitted, hating that I literally had no control over my own actions anymore. If it was pleasing her, I'd gladly drop whatever I was doing, any stance I held in the situation and obeyed to her stupidly adorable demands. _

_ Her expression brightened once more, and she threaded her fingers through my hair. The sun was shining through, but Beth was the only light in the room for me. Her bright blue eyes were concentrating on something, and she bit her lip. I had told her before how when she did that, my mind would go blank and everything just faded into the background around her. I let out a pained grunt, then pulled her lips to mine by primal instinct._

_ Beth laughed against my lips, rolling over so that her hips were straddling my own. I hissed, and she giggled again. She always did that, always laughing and happy, despite everything that the world had become. _

_ And I loved her for it._

My eyes groggily opened, and I sat up in the cold bed. The space beside me was empty, as it had been for the last seventeen years. The place where she she had just been in my arms was lifeless, no sign that she had ever been there. I stole a glance at the half empty closet we used to share, and before I knew what I was doing, I was rolling out from beneath the covers.

The floorboards creaked beneath me, my once uncanny ability to keep the noise quiet had gone out the window along with my age. The door was already opened, and I looked out into the cabin.

It was strange. I could still see her in the kitchen, opening the cans of food and trying her hardest to make the meals bearable. I could still smell her in the room, still hear her soft patter of footsteps as she tended to the flowers in the window seal.

My feet lead me to the red door, and I put on my coat before leaving the home. Our home.

The wind was cold, and my brittle bones allowed me to feel it seep into my body. My crossbow gathered dust on the porch, and the long blades of grass blew restlessly in the wind, creating an ocean of memories separating me from the rest of the world.

A large oak tree sat on the side of the property, and I couldn't help myself from doing a double take of the patches of dirt beside it. No matter how many times I saw them, I couldn't really believe it to be true.

Beneath the tree, embedded in the dirt were two wooden crosses. Dead flowers curled up by the markers, once again I was taken over by the grief. I wobbled forward, taking a step towards my family, and shook my head. Beneath the soil was where I was supposed to be.

My knees buckled beneath me, allowing me to fall to the ground and dig my bony fingers into the dirt. The wind picked up, blowing my hair from my face, and I knew.

"Before you..." I gasped out between the silent sobs. "I didn't have a lick of faith. Now, I feel you in everythin'. The wind, the grass, the god damn creaking in that stupid attic door you never let me fix." I rubbed my disgusting hand over my face, then looked up at the sky. "I know, Beth. I know you had to go. You told me you had to be with Samuel, had to make sure there would always be someone who love him, and I don't blame you, girl."

My eyes were drawn to the smaller cross, the one that marked our sons grave.

"I just want to be up there with you." My voice was shaking, and I knew I was being pathetic, but I needed to release it. I needed to be with her. With both of them. "I... I don't want to be the last man standing anymore, Beth." I cried out to what I hoped was her.

There was no response that time, no wind, nothing. She had always wanted me to live, be the man to save humanity or what not, but I was old now. My time was coming to an end, and I just wanted to get it over with.

Like a blessing, the clouds parted, and a particularly bright ray of light blinded my eyes.

_'You're not.'_

I heard her say it, even if I knew it wasn't real, I still heard it. Felt the vibrations from her voice. She sounded young again, like she was when I first fell in love with her.

"Daryl?" I heard a familiar voice ask. My head turned, and I saw Carl walking through the back door. His eyes cast over me, and then, they lowered. I saw the fear run course through his body, saw him throw down whatever he was holding and sprint outside like he wasn't in his 30s. For a moment, I thought he was still fourteen. Then, he dove to the ground beside me, and my head cocked to the side as I looked down.

A man was laying in the dirt, hands clenched and his hair flipping in the vibrant wind that I couldn't feel. Who the hell is laying in my yard? I took a step closer, about to speak, when I saw the apparent tears Carl was shedding.

Then I saw the coat, the beard, the disgustingly aged skin that I had prolonged seeing by covering all of the mirrors in the house. That man was me. Not some figment of my imagination that I created, that was the real me, lying in the dirt, dead as a door knob.

"_Daryl?_" Her voice asked again, and when I turned, I saw her. She was standing there, our baby in her illuminated arms.

It felt too good to be true. A happy ending in the after life?

But, I'll be damned if my doubt kept me from racing up to her and dragging her into my arms. She was warm and alive, and it I cried so god damn much that I thought I might be drowning her. She was crying as well, the baby was wailing, and we were kissing.

Everything felt so good, everything felt like a dream...

I awoke in my bed, alone once more. I lifted my hands, looking at the smoothed over skin again. When I came to the full realization that what I had just witnessed wasn't the truth, my heart began to clench painfully. Beth hadn't died. At least, not with me. Beth Greene had been whisked away from me long ago, that night after we had visited a funeral home. I'd never seen her again after that, just dreams ever so often about what it might be like if I did.

We never had a kid, and I never got to witness Beth Greene domesticated in my home, or what it might feel like to have her warm breath caressing my skin. Nothing was as it should have been. All I could do was lay back in this bed that was built for two and close my eyes once more, allowing the overwhelming thoughts of the blond take it's toll on me.

My fingers trembled in my sleep, and my breathing became even once more. I was happy in these dreams, even if real life would one day come knocking at that old beat up red door, thrusting me from this empty bed. Until then, I would lose myself in my thoughts and confused reality with fantasy. I would lie to myself because that's what I had to do to survive, and I had to survive for Beth. For what could have been a manifested reality.

Like a record, the movie played again behind my eyes and our make-believe life started from the beginning. In that world, we were good. We were okay. That was the world I chose to live in.

The movie began and ended with that dainty giggle piercing my ears.

'_What a stupidly perfect ending,'_ I thought.


	4. Chapter 4-Picture

**Based on the song Picture by Kid Rock ft. Sheryl Crow. **

He slid the worn out photo from his reluctant grasp, putting the paper in it's own little home he had obliviously made for it in the drawer beside the bed. The action had become a custom that he performed every night for three days, three days of drifting around aimlessly. Daryl sighed with a gruff intonation, then drug his hands down his weary face.

Soft mumbling drifted up from the fleecy bed beside him. He closed the drawer, rolling over to see the bottle blond from the night before sprawled out beneath the sheets. Her shoulder was on full display, and the night came back to him in long melodramatic scenes. He recalled the woman coming onto him and him being too drunk to decline, then her offering him cocaine in the bathroom of a the grotesque bar. Everything after that was a colorful spastic blur or alcohol and sex.

Groaning because of his headache and his regret, he watched the shitty ceiling fan spin in awkward circles. He had never been the one for drugs, and even now he was doubting he ever wanted to do it again. Whiskey and beer were his go to. If a day was completely fucked, he'd just proceed to drown his cowardly sorrows that he was too ashamed to just face.

His eyes were slowly drawn back to the woman. Sure she was pretty, but it was almost eight at night and the sunshine had long since liquified beyond the Georgia sky. That meant it was time for him to drag his ass out of bed.

"Hey," he said, nudging the girls tanned skin.

She shifted in her sleep, and with a little more prodding on his part, her blood shot brown eyes gently fluttered open. "Hm?"

Daryl got out of bed, picking up a can of beer that he vaguely recalled drinking two nights before, but with another woman. "You got to get goin'." He took the drink to his parched lips, but received little more than a drop.

The girl huffed at his abruptness as she slid the covers down and allowed all of her upper half to be completely nude to the world. She smiled suggestively, obviously not ready to go. Only problem was that Daryl was unaware of the nature of her beauty. She was just another means to company for him.

"I told you when this began that I ain't offerin' you nothin'. This wasn't gonna be no damn relationship." His voice was sharp, but not quite harsh. He wasn't in the business of being rude to girls, just having revolting one night stands with them.

The woman who he thought her name might have been Gretchen completely threw off his heady blanket with ease, sauntering up to him. "Come on baby." She cooed as she ran her finger down his arm.

Daryl stepped further away, then allowed his stomach to lead him straight for the fridge. "Y'need money for a cab or somethin'?" He inquired, resulting in his own denim vest being slammed against the back of his head, forcing his hair to swoosh and land in his eyes. He averted his gaze to Gretchen, who was hurriedly pulling on her shirt in the fluorescent lighting. Her eyebrows were furrowed and Daryl could practically see the steam radiating off of her skin.

"You're such an asshole!" Her voice cracked mid sentence, and he tried to fight off the pang of guilt he felt for the woman. With heated pants, she swung the door open and nearly ripped it off of the hinges. "Why do I give myself to pieces of shit?" Gretchen yanked the rickety door behind her as she left, and Daryl didn't have a response. He was an asshole. He'd had a different girl every night in the hotel he was basically living in. Everyday the same thing, him tossing her out, then searching beat up hole in the wall bars for a new girl to pass the time.

It struck him as odd that he required having the company of these females when before, you couldn't have paid him enough to bring one back to his place. It made him feel vulnerable, revealing such intimate aspects of himself to someone. Til now, that is. Now, it was almost as if he just _needed_ the company. It definitely wasn't like this before.

Before what, you might ask?

Well... Before _her_.

…

The telephone hung in her hand as she leaned against the wall next to the phone booth. She just needed to hear his voice. That damn southern accent that she hadn't been able to get out of her mind. That's all she needed, really. Was is that bad to need to hear him speak?

Her fingertips grazed the buttons on the dial pad before she took a deep breath and punched in the numbers she had memorized. She waited with bated breath as the phone rang and rang, wondering somewhere if she was waking him up.

"Hello?"

Beth felt frozen to her place as the sweet voice flowed through her ear. The voice of a female. She was helpless to answer, and her eyes found her friends in front of her who had been waiting and snickering as their drunken friend drunk dialed her ex. Beth simply shook her head, signaling to them that she couldn't handle it, and Sasha reached up, taking the phone from her fingers.

"Is Dixon there?" Sasha asked. "Daryl Dixon." She elaborated for good measure.

There was a sigh on the other line, and then a soft laugh. "No, no. He's asleep right now. Can I take some sort of message or something for you? He looks too peaceful to wake up." The woman lowered her voice a little, and Sasha wished she had hung up. "We were up kind of late, if you know what I mean."

Beth let out a little whimper, then turned around, hanging her head over the motel balcony. She felt sick, and it wasn't because of the alcohol. Or maybe it was. Everything sort of blended together into a horrible concoction of her own torment.

Sasha muttered something repugnant to the girl on the line, then slammed the phone down. "Screw him." She stated, walking around to take up Beth's arm.

Beth's sister, Maggie, nodded. She walked beside the heartbroken girl and gave her a small hug. "It was a bad idea anyway. You could do much better."

Their kind words didn't help the girl. She hadn't heard from him in three days, not since their fight they had, when he left like he always did. But, this time he didn't come back. She had waited and waited for him to call or anything really, and everyone knew that it was over, but they kept it to themselves.

Tonight, Beth Greene was through waiting. She needed to get drunk in public and maybe sleep with some guy to test her new freedom, but each time she considered this, she would began to feel sick at the thought of being "free". Free of what? The only person she had ever loved?

"Dixon's just scared, shaking in his own boots at the thought of commitment." The fierce Michonne added, then smiled gently, the way she had only ever done in the presence of Beth. "Let's go fill you up with more wine. By the end of the night, you won't even remember his name."

It was a long shot, but she needed to try. "Who's name?" She joked, and the girls let out small laughs.

When they entered the club, she knew then that it wasn't where she needed to be. She had always hated places like this where females got groped without permission and nobody could see because of the lights flashing in blinding speeds and the music blaring so loudly that you could probably have a conversation with someone, then step out of the room with them and find out you had no idea what their voice sounded like.

"Wanna dance?" A handsome guy asked Maggie, holding out his hand like a perfectly horrible gentleman that Beth was beyond jealous of. Daryl wasn't the dancing type, though it added to his "I look tough but really I'm just insecure" look.

Maggie turned to her sister with bright eyes, silently asking permission. Beth instantly surrendered the sweetest smile, and nodded, shoving her darling older sister in the direction of the wandering stranger. The two other girls walked with Beth to the bar, when she ordered a margarita only to be stopped by Sasha. "Three tequila shots." The woman said, changing the order.

The man smiled. "You got it."

"Did we go out for drinks or are we substituting our blood for alcohol?" Beth asked, grabbing one of the shot glasses when they landed in front of her. Michonne gave her a mischievous smile, then downed her drink and pulled Beth to where everyone was heated in dancing. She knew the woman wasn't going to dance and was just trying to help Beth, but she still felt the sudden lack of protection when she was left alone in the middle of the dance floor like a child without it's mother.

Everything was so bright. She squinted her eyes and attempted to move through the crowd, when a hand touched her shoulder. She spun her head toward the hand, seeing a charming smile. "Hi!" The guy yelled over the music.

Beth shyly returned the gesture, then waved her hand, stepping away. The guy followed beside her in between the people. "I'm Zach!"

She laughed now, and turned towards him, actually looking him over. He was handsome, wearing a black polo t-shirt and dark jeans. If she was still in high school, she'd be blushing and pleading for his number. "Beth!" She called back to him.

"Beth? That's a beautiful name!" He hesitated. "You're beautiful too! Beautiful Beth!" He roared, yet she barely heard. Still, it made her blush as his words came out awkwardly. "Was that cheesy?" He questioned, resulting in yet another laugh on Beth's part.

She nodded quickly, and he smiled at her. Zach walked up closer to her, his hand gently falling onto her hip as he swayed to the music. Confusion was evident on her face, that some guy was just going to think that she was willing to dance with him because they had a few nice words, but then she realized that he had got to know her more than most people did in places like this. The fact that he didn't just come up behind her and grab her spoke volumes.

Beth looked at him from over her shoulder while he moved her to the horrible pop music booming from the speakers. The tequila was making her lightheaded but not quite buzzed, enchanting everything around her. He lay his head on her shoulder while Beth ground her hips into his own.

In that moment, she decided she didn't want to spend the night alone.

Her hand reached out, grabbing his. Zach eagerly allowed the gesture. She pulled him off of the sweaty hormonal dance floor, almost tripping on her heels once, and brought him close to the doors. "Do you want to get out of here?" She asked, and his eyes widened in surprise. Beth knew she didn't seem like the type of girl to just grab some guy and take him home, but that's only because she actually wasn't the type of girl to just grab some guy and take him home. The alcohol made her impulsive, and she was being spiteful.

Slowly, he began to nod, and Beth grinned ear to ear. "Well, come on then." She whispered, dragging him out of the door. Michonne and Sasha watched with easy smiles, noting to stay away from their hotel room for a few hours.

…

"Beth, is it?" Zach asked in the taxi, and Beth nodded. "What brings you out on the town tonight, Beth?"

She pondered that for a moment, ultimately deciding that discussing a bad break up was not the biggest turn on. "Girl's night out." was what she decided to go with, and Zach accepted it without pause. He seemed like a nice guy, and Beth hoped that she might even end up dating him. That would be the perfect love story.

"You want to go get something to eat, maybe?"

She shook her head, grasping his light brown hair and pulling his mouth to hers. She kept surprising him, and soon her was releasing so much affection into the kiss. His tongue cascaded along her full lips, and he groaned when she slid her own tongue along his. His fingers played along her shoulders in an graceless dance, but Beth still felt more alive than she had in the past few days.

When she pulled back, Zach's eyes were still heavily lidded. "Okay. No food." He agreed.

They pulled up to the hotel, spilling out of the car in quick movements. He tossed out a few bucks to the driver, then stumbled slightly when Beth pulled him along with a giggle. In the elevator, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her, where he placed his hand on either side of her head and sunk into the kiss.

The door rung, telling them that it was opening, but they were too busy, so it was the clearing of the throat that let them know they had not only reached their floor, but that an elderly woman was waiting for them to exit with her two grandchildren.

"Sorry." Beth mumbled, walking out while fixing the strap on her tank top. Zach apologized as well, then walked off behind her. "Just let me get the key." She told him when they reached her door.

She fumbled with her pursed, yanking it in different ways to try and find the little piece of plastic to unlock the door. When she got it out, she was a little too violent and ended up throwing it a few feet away. Her eyes found his, and they began laughing hysterically while he reached for it.

He brushed passed, opening the solid door and allowing her to walk through. "It seems chivalry isn't dead." She laughed, then turned to him. His eyes were darker now, and she knew that look of lust anywhere. Quickly, her hands began to fumble with the bottom of her shirt, and Zach took a step towards her, completely obliterating their distance as his hands ran up her sides. She was painfully slow while removing the clothing, and he let out a little frustrated huff before lending her a hand. The fervent kiss returned when her shirt separated from her body, and he pushed her back carefully, successfully pinning her against the wall.

"Maybe," he whispered between ardent touches, "after all of this, we can get some coffee." Beth slid her heels off of her feet, then jumped up, wrapping her legs around him as a distraction because she was too afraid to tell him that there wasn't going to be an "after". She only intended on this being a one night thing, as much as she wished she could delve into something more.

Zach came to three doors, then stopped with her in his arms. They stood there for a good three minutes before he hesitantly removed his lips and leaned his forehead to hers, looking at the three doors. She laughed when she realized that of course he didn't know where to go, and so she pointed to the bedroom door. He pushed it opened, then flopped her down on the hotel room bed. The sheets were a mess from the previous night, and he watched her lay out on top of them shirtless while he removed his own clothes. Beth unbuttoned her pants with ease, sliding them off and toss them over his shoulder. Her only articles of clothing was a pink bra and white underwear with red cherries, to which he grinned. Once he was just in his boxers, he knelt down on the bed, making it dip beneath his weight.

Beth kissed him hungrily again. This time, she kissed him because she was beginning to feel guilt rise in her stomach. She needed to drown it out.

His hands played at her side, and she sighed and groaned as they slowly slid up, massaging her breast and making her mind fuzzy. He was kind and gentle with her, something she wasn't used to. Daryl was never rough, but the way they relieved their passion wasn't exactly sweet either. He had only been tentative with her a few times, the first being the one she remembers the most. It was been the very first time anyone had ever seen her so nude, and he didn't want her to feel any kind of pain or discomfort.

She groaned audibly when she thought about that night, unknowingly lifting Zach's confidence in the ministrations he was performing. His other hand trailed carefully back down her side, and Beth bit his lip when she figured where he was going.

Unbeknownst to him, her mind was picturing calloused fingers running down her legs, and a scarred up back playing beneath her fingertips. All that was missing was the whispered promises of a southern drawl. It was horrible, and when she realized there were no scars under her hands, she came to her senses about what she had done.

"Oh my god." Beth exhaled, scooting away from the man. He looked up at her in confusion, and Beth shook her head gently. His eyes saddened when he knew what she was about to say, so he simply leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, then got up from the bed. "I'm so sorry... I just can't."

He smiled brokenly back at her as he put on his shirt that had clearly been stretched out. "It's alright." He responded, then picked up his pants. "I should have known you were in love with someone else. It's all over your face." He told her comically, gesturing to her. Beth slowly got up to try and explain it to him, but he only dismissed her. "Should have known I was only being used to help you through some sort of break up."

"I can't go through with... That." She sheepishly said, hinting at what they had been doing on the bed. "And I didn't know that when I brought you here. I... I just didn't want to sleep alone tonight, Zach. I'm sorry." Her heart began to ache in her chest, and she felt so stupid because she was the one who had been the asshole, yet here she was crying.

To make matters worse, Zach stopped what he was doing, leaving his pants unbuttoned and unzipped to reach forward and pull her into an embrace that she surely did not deserve. "Hey, it's okay." He whispered, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "I can stay, if you want. We don't have to do anything. I'll just stay here with you, and you won't have to sleep alone."

"I can't do that to you." How horrible would that be?

Zach shook his head, pulling her to the bed. She stood before him, and Beth desperately wished she had met Zach before she met Daryl. "Then I'll do it to myself." His little smile had her weak in the knees from kindness, and she yanked him forward, burrowing her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder.

…

At some point in the night, Beth had grabbed that old photo she had of Daryl, which was the _only _photo he had allowed her to have of him, and that was after a long and tedious debate in which she had to explain why it was necessary for her to physically have a photo of him. He had still been unwilling, but when she took the photo, she had snuck closer to him and clicked the capture button when her lips found the corner of his own.

Beth smiled at the memory, running her fingers over the image of his face.

Thoughts of their holidays and weekends together were shoving through the haze of their argument, and she sat for what the world called hours, but to Beth felt like a perpetual amount of time where she could just sit and recollect.

She ran through the first time they were together for Christmas, recalling how Daryl had been so against ever leaving his house when she wanted to visit family, then they were immediately snowed in, as if the universe was siding with Daryl. She wouldn't have thought much of it at the time, besides the fact that Georgia doesn't receive too much snow in the winter.

Beth laughed, looking up to search the house around her and ask Daryl if he remembered it like she did, which he never did, when all her eyes found was a bleak hotel room and a warmth near her side.

Zach slept easily beside her with a peaceful expression, and Beth absent mindlessly looked between the photo and Zach. She felt her chest clench looking at the man in the photo, and she received nothing from the boy that was laying half naked in her bed. A boy who had been completely willing to have sex with her and let it mean something several hours before.

She fell asleep a few minutes later, the photo back inside her purse, and Zach's arm draped over her stomach.

…

"Beth Greene?" Daryl's eyes were wide in surprise, shaking his head at the name. "Nah, man. I haven't thought about her in a long time." Daryl lied and downed some more alcohol, Rick watching him from the corner of his eye the entire time.

They sat in a less than average bar on the outside of Atlanta. Rick had stopped by to check on the guy, but Daryl could tell now that Rick was looking more and more tired with each second that passed. He yawned for the sixth time in ten minutes, and Daryl did nothing more than take another gulp of whiskey. It burned going down his throat, a good burn that he relished in.

"Don't bullshit me, Daryl." Rick propped his hand up on the bar, then placed his fist beneath his chin. "This is Beth we're talking about. You two have been together for what, three years?"

Daryl responded before he could help it. "Four years this July." He cursed under his breath, then glared down at the glass that lay in his hands. "She was pretty much singin' 'bout it a few weeks ago in the kitchen."

The explanation made Rick chuckle, patting his friend on the shoulder. "She pretty much sings everything."

The drunk man only grunted, but really, he was just searching through his brain for her beautiful voice that used to fill his ear nearly every night before they slept. Whether it be a hum or a full out song, she always sang something.

Rick laid some money down on the bar finally. "Maybe you should get home." He told his friend, but they both knew it wasn't going to happen.

"You kiddin' me? This is like 6pm for me." Daryl dismissed the suggestion, signaling for another.

"I think he's had enough." Rick told the bartender, and the man shrugged, turning back to help more customers. "This isn't healthy. You look like death, and I know you've been staying in that shitty motel." His eyebrows lifted as if he was daring him to deny it. Daryl shrugged in response because who was he kidding? He could lie about thoughts, but there was hard evidence stating he'd been in that hotel room. "Just call her."

Daryl shoved his glass away, swinging off of the stool to stand in front of the man who he'd known for years. He came chest to chest with Rick, and Rick's eyes just filled with pity, fueling Daryl's anger. "I don't need ta call her. I ain't gonna call her. I wish everybody would get out of my damn business, don't none of y'all got your own lives?"

"You're just hurtin' yourself, brother." Rick laid his hand on Daryl's shoulder, and although Daryl despised anyone touching him, he allowed the small gesture that he would later blame the alcohol on.

"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes, then pulled out his wallet. "I guess it's about time I stopped bein' nocturnal." The bartender accepted his cash with an uneasy eye, watching as the two men who were just about to fight in his bar walked away as friends.

Daryl and Rick barely got through the threshold before Rick had stopped. Daryl saw the man's body tense for a moment before a smile took over, and he followed his eyesight to the blond walking down the pavement towards them. She was speaking to someone, a guy. They had coffee in their hands, but Daryl was still focused on the man walking beside her, making her emit that beautiful giggle.

She stopped immediately after seeing him too, and both of them did little more that just stare at the other.

"Hey, Beth." Rick said, walking further and pulling Daryl along.

Beth smiled kindly at the man she had met through Daryl years before. "Rick, long time no see." The man chuckled in return. "How're Carl and Judith?"

"Judith will be starting kindergarten shortly, and Carl's going to be graduating in June. I hope you'll be able to come, he's been asking about you recently." He laughed.

Beth recalled the crush the boy had on her. "Of course I'm coming. Wouldn't miss it for the world." She listened more as Rick spoke fondly of his teenage son, but her eyes never quite came off of Daryl's. There he was, standing there, looking like shit. It almost made her smile beyond the pain, knowing that she wasn't the only one who was handling this difficultly. Almost. It seemed that despite everything, she still didn't wish sorrow on him for one moment. "Hi." She breathed out, and Rick and Zach watched the exchange with grins.

Zach had promised her he'd get her coffee when they woke up, and he had been reimbursed with a story of her ex, explaining why she had stopped him the night before. He really was a good guy. Beth learned that when he didn't seem the slightest bit angry or vindictive and told her she should call him. In fact, that's what he had been trying to convince her of doing when they were walking and saw Rick and Daryl.

"Hey." Daryl responded impassively, and it agitated Beth to no end. Why couldn't he show somehow that he missed her? Why did he always have to have such a stick up his ass and pretend like nothing ever hurt him?

Despite the rush of annoyance she felt, Beth kept the soft smile on her lips. "How have you been?" It felt too formal coming from her lips. Too much like strangers speaking to one another. Still, she flourished in it, drenching herself in the feeling of having a conversation with him that didn't end in screaming and on her part, crying. It had been weeks since they simply just... Talked.

"Mmmhm." He mumbled incoherently.

Beth rolled her eyes, forgetting the world around her as she began to get back into their old ways. "Don't 'mmhm' me. What have you been up to?"

His chest was aching something terrible as she corrected his speech. Why the hell were they even talking? Why couldn't they just shut the hell up and find their way back home and make senseless, inebriated love? That's what he wanted to do. Daryl wanted to forget they ever had that damn fight, but how could they when the product of their bickering was standing right beside her? Who was that guy anyway?

Zach sensed the man's gaze on him, and he let out an uneven laugh as his hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "I'm Zach." After a moment of silence, he blurted out, "I'm not having sex with your girlfriend."

Beth's face burned, and despite Daryl's best efforts, a small smirk came to his lips now. His heavy gaze fell back to the woman he undeniably loved. Heated nights and days when they could just spend endless amounts of time with each other were playing on default in the background in Daryl's mind, and seeing the slightest hint of a smile on her lips let him know she was feeling the same way.

"Zach was about to take me to his church." Beth said, looking between Rick and Daryl, although any bystander would have been aware that she was simply attempting to make small talk.

"What?" Daryl choked out, sharing a look with Rick.

Rick watched as Beth cocked her eyebrow with a questioning stare, and Daryl stuttered over himself to explain why he could never see her going to church. "I've known you for six years," he finally got out, "and never once have you gone to a church. The closest you came was that night last summer when-"

"Okay!" Beth threw her hands up. She resembled a tomato with tussled hair now, and Daryl smiled down at her. They were both aware of how much that night was not appropriate for other's ears, and frankly he was offended she thought he would possibly tell others about. That was their night to share, something that only the two of them and the priest that found them would be aware of. "You should get some sleep." She said as she walked closer, and Daryl's body stiffened as he realized she was about to give him a hug.

He was panicked because it had been so long since their last embrace and he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do. Would he be able to keep himself under control?

Beth wrapped her small arms around his torso, laying her cheek onto his chest. His heart was throbbing against her ear and she vaguely wondered if it hurt, though she could attest that the feeling was far from that of pain, considering hers was doing the same thing.

They should have released one another, but his hands were braced beneath her elbows and he wasn't letting her move. She placed her chin on his chest and peered up at him, as if they never left one another. "I miss you."

Daryl felt the blow of her words as if they were physical. Why were they living life this way?

"I know." He grumbled back, and Beth turned her head with a grin. It was his way of saying he missed her too, and that was good enough for her.

Beth finally relinquished her hold on him, and he felt a chill run through his body from the loss of connection. "You go get yourself cleaned up, alright?"

He felt embarrassed that he needed to be told to do something like that, but nodded anyway. She waved to Rick, turning her back away from them as she walked towards what they could only guess was the direction of the church.

"She looks good." Rick commented, drawing a long overdue sigh from Daryl.

"Yeah," he said, watching the way her body moved from a distance. "She does."

…

Daryl was deep in sleep when he heard a ringing in his ears. He shifted, lifting the pillow off of his head to look around the hotel room. It felt uncomfortable to not have any warmth by his side, but there had been no possibility of him going to find some random girl in a bar after he had seen Beth. He didn't want anyone else to comfort him in a bed ever again.

The ringing became more prominent, and he realized with fatigue that it wasn't his own head, but his phone beside him on the nightstand.

He grabbed at it roughly, nearly hitting it off of the table before he had it securely in his hand. He tapped the answer button without really looking and slid it up to his ear. "Yeah?" There was the slightest flutter of breath on the other end, and Daryl shot straight up in his bed. "Beth?"

He was going insane with anticipation. The girl sure as hell knew how to create suspense, that was for sure. His cast his gaze to the photo sitting on the nightstand for the hundredth time, before he picked it up and examined it once more. Finally, her breath entered the phone again as she prepared to speak. "I... I just called to say I love you." She replied.

The room seemed void of air as he replayed that in his mind. Even if he knew it already, it still felt like a revelation to have her admit it. 'I miss you' is one thing, but love. Well, love isn't questionable. There aren't different motives behind love. If you love someone, you love them. No if, and, or but's. Knowing Beth Greene loved him was like knowing that he could breathe in as much oxygen as possible and still not effect the Earth's seemingly endless supply.

Before he could respond, she spoke again. "Come back home."

His hand lifted the phone from his ear, checking the time. It was 5:46pm.

…

There was some shuffling on the other line after Beth asked for him to come back, and she was beginning to think he had sat the phone down and left.

She had returned to her house after coming back from church with Zach, where they both decided she definitely did not belong. It had been plaguing her mind the entire day that she should do something, call, text, something. Her heart couldn't spend another night without him, and before she knew it, she was searching his name in her phone and pressing call.

There was some breathing on his end of the line, and Beth's own hitched in her throat as she nervously played with the photo in her hand.

"I'll be there in an hour." And then the line went dead.

**Go to my tumblr "sleepingawaytheday" to request me songs and all that jazz!**


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